


It's Snow Life For Me

by Shatterpath



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Los Angeles, Multi, Olympians, Polyamory, Snow and Ice, Snowboarding, Winter Olympics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:56:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4013566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The MCU re-imagined as Winter Olympians.</p>
<p>Let the shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo... On Pril 29th (I know, I checked my files) Ayrki and I started rambling on starting with the IM posts of:  
> Ayrki: Oh my god! If Peggy and Steve had modern day together, they would SO be a couple that would think Paintball (and maybe laser tag) is a totally romantic date. Fuck, that needs writin'.  
> Shatterpath: skydiving, bungee jumping: they're an X-Games Power Couple  
> Ayrki: -snicker- we're gonna headcanon another bloody AU  
> Shatterpath: they should be OLYMPIANS
> 
> And the rest is history.

Any moment now.

Like waiting for the beep-beep-BUZZ of the starting gate, he held himself as calm and still as possible. And like the release of tension with the gate dropping and the white speed embracing him, the reward for the wait was glorious.

"Steve!"

There was less than a handful of people who could interrupt him like this and not get at least a glare; but not Natasha. Steve merely raised his arms and braced for impact, grinning at the jarring thump of her solid, curvy body.

"About damn time you got here."

Cuddling close, Natasha made a rude noise and clung like a burr even as Steve opened his eyes to meet the gaze of his best friend.

"You're an ass," Maria drawled as she leaned arrogantly against the doorframe of his meditation room. "But we missed you anyway."

He flashed her a grin before ducking to kiss away Natasha's pout, knowing she wouldn't let up trying to pleasantly strangle him until he did so. Licking at her teeth and upper lip, he nibbled playfully at the softness, fishing for a giggle.

"Missed you too," he leered like a pimp daddy and finally earned the throaty sound of amusement he'd been after.

They were the Hollywood rags to riches tale set to snow, the king and queen of snowboard greatness, a pinnacle of ability all others aspired to. It was both true and utterly misleading. Steve adored the fiery little redhead and vice-versa, but it was so much more complicated than the outside world would know or understand. 

Scooping his upper arm under Natasha's ass, he lifted until she had little choice but to slither her weight over his shoulder and he rubbed his face into her tits. 

"Up," was his instruction to go with the maneuver, unfolding his meditative pose to lean forward and roll effortlessly to his feet. Like a spider, Natasha clung to him, heavy for her small stature with dense muscles and a luscious layer of feminine softness her lovers were quite pleased she never shed, no matter her intensively physical lifestyle. 

Not so with Steve, tall and cut like the Olympian he was, or even whip-cord taut Maria, who he threw an arm around once he'd grabbed his duffel bags and jacket. 

"How was Liberty Mountain?"

"Awesome as always. Should have come with us. Natasha certainly would have pouted less."

The tease made said Natasha stick her tongue out at her girlfriend and cling all the tighter to her favorite playmate.

They shop-talked and bantered as they headed towards the elevators to be whisked upwards to the roof of the luxury high-rise condo complex and the special mode of transport awaiting them. There was a plush observation area always popular with the residents and their guests, complete with a full bar, but none of the Olympians paused, but headed towards the massive double glass doors that whisked open immediately. The hot air of late summer Southern California whipped across them, yet still barely disturbed Natasha's arrogant feline sprawl across Steve's broad shoulders. 

As Steve knew there would be, the women's transportation was there in the form a sleek corporate helicopter hunkered down on the roof landing pad, blades whirling idly in the blazing afternoon.

"Greetings, Programs!" Tony yelled as the door slid open and he barely caught the duffel bag Maria pulled from Steve's shoulder and chucked at him.

"I see you swiped Daddy's ride again," the bigger man called over the rising sound of the blades above them.

"You kidding? He's flying it!"

Today's t-shirt, because Tony Stark was always in one of his own company's 'StarkNaked' t-shirts, was an exaggerated, cartoon female torso superimposed over his shape, assets barely covered in a comically tiny pink bikini and marked with the words, 'when you got it, flaunt it.'

Piling into the plush interior, Steve and Maria buckled in, but Nat would not give up her hold on her favorite human teddy bear and would only allow herself to be pulled across their laps to be cuddled and stroked. Tony leered at the show and poked her knee with a sneakered foot even as the engine above them wailed through the heavy noise insulation and the chopper rose into the sky. If he hadn't poked and leered, they'd all worry, frankly.

The newcomers greeted Howard with familiarity, as used to the old man as they were to his equally quirky and talented son. The kids didn't mind his tailing along because he was a riot and very loose with his wallet and toys. Stark Industries also supported one of the finest materials R&D lab in the country, all the more accessible with the company's relocation from New York to Los Angeles several years ago. There was a pause over the massive sprawl of the LA Harbor area, the Queen Mary an elegant bulk below them, while they waited for clearance to cross Long Beach Airport's flight paths and chatted about their summers. Then they were buzzing down the coast, the dirty, dusty haze of civilization on the left and the glistening Pacific on the right.

When the watery stripe of the Santa Ana River flashed, Howard swung the chopper inland and banked towards the acres of asphalt, concrete and dead-dry grass of John F Kennedy Airport, but leveled off to follow Highway 55 northeast towards their actual destination. 

Amid the choking urban sprawl of Tustin, lay one of Los Angeles' more unique landmarks; the old Marine Corps Air Station Tustin. Some thousand acres of near-empty, wild land completely at odds with its humanity-saturated surroundings. Buildings and construction dotted the space, several large patches of carefully cultivated green parks and asphalt both new and crumbling old, but most importantly, four buildings so large they were a bit much to take in. Originally, there had only been the pair of old WW2 blimp hangars, each more than a thousand feet long and almost two hundred feet tall, still some of the largest freestanding wooden structures in the world.

It was too unique a property for the Stark men to pass up and they'd snapped up the entire mess, despite having to clean up thousands of tons of contaminated soil and build an intimidating amount of infrastructure in addition to their own projects. That didn't even cover the aging hangars, which thankfully, they only got one of. The other was the city's problem, having found new life, not just housing the odd light-than-air craft, but a museum as well. That left the more battered of the two hangars, part of the roof having caved in two years ago, so Tony had the rest removed, shortening the walls down to about a third of their height and leaving the massive doors on either end and the soaring support spars stark against the LA sky.

At the 'elbow' where the two hangars 90 degree angles would meet if one drew a line down their long axis, lay Howard's prized possession, the Triskelion, with its dramatically curled trio of wings and skin of glistening green-black glass. 

And jutting away from the central building like the third leg of the letter 'Y', lay Tony's prize; California's first indoor ski slope. Its nearly flat roof, a full three hundred feet across, fell at a visually steep angle of twelve degrees for a thousand feet, the diminishing slope lined in flagpoles with colorful pennants snapping in the near-constant wind from the ocean just eight miles away. At ground level, it dove beneath the healthy new grass as though the building were sinking away into the very ground. The entire structure was sheathed in gray-brown to visually make it part of the old hangars, despite the very different shape and the massive blocky, concrete office building at the north end homaged the heavy doors of the hangers, etched and aged to match the old concrete and steel. Tony had agreed with Natasha's past comment that it looked like an ugly fortress and the name had stuck.

"So, it's finally ready, huh?" Steve asked as he leaned over to press his cheek to the glass. "Hard to believe it after all this damn time."

"Tell me about it," Tony groused dramatically and slouched more deeply into his seat. "I've missed an entire summer season of revenue from the fucking delays, but better to get it right then endless repairs. Besides, I get a perverse thrill out of watching the board of directors froth at the mouth."

Howard echoed his son's sadistic chuckle.


	2. Chapter 2

After another long pause while the passengers of the helicopter enjoyed the spectacular view of the facility, a plane roared by on its way to the nearby airport, seeming to nearly skim the Triskelion and the Fortress, standing some fifty feet taller than the historical hangars. Only then was Howard cleared to set down in the gated lot beside the tower and start shutting the chopper down. "You kids have fun!" He cackled at them as they stepped into the afternoon heat and abruptly, even taciturn Maria was excited.

"This is even better than Dubai! I can't believe we get snow three sixty five so close to home!"

With a sudden laugh, Natasha was sprinting across the neatly groomed, park-like expanse between the two huge buildings, the others after her in a flash. Through the impressive glass entry doors of the Fortress, the sprawling lobby stood silent and nearly ready for true occupancy. A lone security guard jumped at the intrusion, but only nodded at the boss when he tumbled in with his friends. 

"It smells new, but not gross," Natasha commented as Tony led them past the casual food court, half the tables still unassembled and stacks of chairs in plastic wrap.

"Hey, goin' green is happenin' now, sweetcheeks," Tony replied airily, waving his hands about. "Besides, it's good business. I've got the finances up front, so it would be stupid not to do things right and save money and resources down the line."

"It's all about the money," Maria sing-songed, earning a flat look from Tony and chuckles from the other two.

"Not all," another voice joined them in the dim of the empty office tower and they all lit up.

"Pepper!"

With that chorus, she was dogpiled, the five of them rocking back into the wall hard enough to nearly knock the delighted laugh right out of her. Like much of the USA Winter Olympics Team, the ones who had been around for a game or three or four, they were a close-knit bunch, no one else quite understanding the pressures like they could. Pepper gave them each a smooch on the forehead, though Tony snuck in a real kiss, before they moved as one unit towards a tiny elevator at the rearmost corner of the building, tucked away beside the huge cargo elevator. It was a good thing they were a friendly bunch as they were packed in, chattering happily at each other.

"Ze Labs," Tony crowed as they spilled onto the cavernous space.

"Grilled cheesus, Tones," Natasha marveled at the gymnasium-tall ceiling and the scattered islands of workspaces that faded away into darkness. "I see you finally have a toybox sized to your ego."

"Flattery, Red. The offices are downstairs, but who gives a shit today. Come on!"

At the edges of the lit space was a series of smaller spaces, doors open to a breakroom and bathrooms and... a toyroom that left the visiting trio in awe.

"Grab some shit and lets go tear those fuckin' slopes up!"

It was a vast collection of gear from toe to crown; boards and goggles and boots and warm clothes in a eye-aching riot of colors and patterns and fabrics. Pepper discussed the line of retro fashions that was her pet project with Maria, who climbed into a rich peacoat and thick pants that made her look straight out of the forties. Steve laughed and climbed into traditional baggy slope wear in a camouflage pattern in gaudy colors. But, no shock to anyone, Natasha sniffed out the winner, Tony howling with merriment and collapsing into a massive cardboard box of unpacked paraphernalia. It was a jacket and too-big pants in black, covered with a red and black motif that looked distinctively pornographic in repeat pattern of small, stylized labia.

"Mine now! Gonna tear up that slope like a whole pack o' badass pussies!"

The others roared with amusement as she leapt up onto a heavy worktable to pose like a cartoon bodybuilder, twisting and flexing in her new togs. Jumping down, she leaned into the half-crushed box to peck Tony on the forehead in thanks, even as he was still laughing too hard to appreciate the rare affection from the little red head.

"You are a sick, wonderful psychopath, Stark. Board! Boots, hat and goggles! Lemme at 'em!"

It took a bit to paw through the overabundance of gear, as Tony had been reduced to incoherent uselessness, but eventually they were ready to go, Nat as bouncy as a four year old on crack, whining for the others to get their asses in gear. Stumbling and crying with hoarse hilarity, Tony remained nearly useless, but an affectionately exasperated Pepper herded them all back to the elevator, which brought them to the magical eighteenth floor.

The moment the doors hissed open, the smell hit. Not fresh, low VOC paint, or new wool carpets or the shiny red lockers, but the wisps of the sharp, clean cold of fresh snow. A wall of windows with nothing but black beyond drew them forward and Pepper spoke up.

"Jarvis, lights."

The central computer system with its myriad of voice commands recognized the programmed instruction and the black beyond the glass lit up like the best Christmas present ever.

"It's beautiful," Steve breathed and subconsciously relished Maria and Nat pressing into his sides.

They'd all seen the facility as it was being built, a massive stair-stepped slope of steel and concrete falling away at a twelve degree angle here on the west side for over fourteen hundred feet to a large flat plaza at the bottom, well more than a hundred feet underground. But that uneven surface was covered now, with a thick layer of pristine white, the curved walls to ceiling painted a light blue in homage to the sky.

"I didn't even let the staff groom it," Tony said quietly in deference to his audience. "The 20 degree, sure, but not this bunny slope. Come give it a shot and then we can go next door and break in the other one."

"You haven't been on them?" Maria questioned as they moved to the heavy glass sliding doors that led to a sprawling alcove carpeted in an artificial surface mimicking snow's qualities. For a moment, they breathed in the scent of fresh snow, no matter that it had been created by machines, the smell rang true. 

"Hell no. You guys know I hate to play alone."

There was a truth to that statement and they each took a moment to smile or touch the older man before stomping boots into bindings and pulling on gloves, Steve grabbing Natasha by the hood of her jacket to yank her back into his body. "Oh no you don't firecracker. Helmet or coach will kill us both."

Grumbling a petulant, "yes dad," she let him clap the molded plastic over her russet curls but waited for his frown before she adjusted the straps and clipped it on.

"Brat."

That was how Natasha hit the slope a board-length before the others, propelled by Steve's swat on her plush backside, though Pepper had been paying attention and quickly caught up. With laughter and catcalls, the five of them hunkered down to pick up what speed they could and soaked up the chilly ambiance and one another's presence. To them, snow and the near-frictionless of board and ski was their freedom, their truest love, their purpose in life.

It was a childishly easy slope for the pros, but they relished it like children for the privacy of the space, for the gift of friendship and resources that let them participate in being the first to break in proper snow in the deepest heat of Southern California.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this wacky version of Natasha, she' the best part of this AU. I mean c'mon ' Gonna tear up that slope like a whole pack o' badass pussies!' PRICELESS.


End file.
